4:30am. Not fair. Can't get back to sleep because once I'm awake, I'm awake.
Still, I do have one last test to record, and then I can wake up at a leisurely pace, take a lingering bath, a coffee enema (not in that order) and think about how cross I was a moment ago when I saw the latest False Flag regarding those baddies in Iran.
America, will you just fck off out of the world!
Rant over.
4:34am and riled already.
It's not right.
I should be waking up cucking sock or something.
That's my favourite thing to do.
Not getting all infuriated about Inside Legs and so on.
This is what I prepared last night for today from half price ground beef ($1), some of those cheap bell peppers I chopped up and froze the other day, an ice cube of Chervil, onions (also half price), loads of garlic (which is cheap and bulbous in Japan), tomatoes, some red kidney beans that I found at an Import Shop for the bargain price of $1.20, and a handful of fresh thyme and basil.
Would you give your organs in return for a free funeral?
That's what you might be able to do soon in the F.UK.
I know this is selfish but I don't want to be cut open after death.
No fcking way.
Not even for an autopsy thing.
Not even to save an orphan's life.
It should be my right to demand that I am left 'as is'.
Not that I want to die right now.
I LOVE LIFE despite being lonely and fcked up this year.
But you think about things like this when you see headlines like, "We'll Pay If You Give Us Y'er Liver!'.
Boy, am I relieved that I'm not that woman who died when a 9 tonne fridge fell off the back of a lorry and squashed her. What a way to go!
I must say though, that the size of the fridge goes a long way in explaining why there are so many fat fcks in the UK.
On the same note, it's refreshing to see that two relatively normal sized people were the winners of the latest 100 Million Pound Lottery in the UK. It was only their 3rd time to enter. Lucky. So envious.
They are in their 40's, they're off to Vegas, they're gonna get married, and they are gonna buy a house in Chelsea.
I LOVE Vegas. I bloody love it.
It is so weird that watashi, of all people -crowd avoider, loather of consumerism- digs Vegas.
It's the cheap all-you-can-eat-and-drink-buffets that won me over.
Also, I like watching the people there, the old timers in the seedier, smoke-filled casinos.
Indeed, if I decide to go through life with a companion, instead of going through the rest of my life alone, albeit you are never alone with a mind like mine -and there is absolutely nobody else out there for me, so it would very much be a solo deal, which I am okay with, too, but the reality is that I so very picky, too picky for somebody with my non-trophy wife looks, that finding somebody else, who I would totally fall for at this late stage in my life ('finding love' is made more difficult given that I don't have the usual British Slag Gene, or BSG for short) I'm tigressing, but in a nutsack, finding new love is not something I see on the radar because of being so picky; you've got to be highly intelligent, healthy from the inside-out, not smoke stinky cigarettes, believe in the Inside Leg Job thing, be okay with drinking tequila for breakfast, be retired young, not bite your cutlery, be into simple living, have great teeth (mine aren't though but I'm British)- then I want to get married in Vegas.
There are so many things about this first post of the morning that are so very, very wrong.
Right. Time to record the test.
28 comments:
I have to disagree with you here, Maria. Even before my sister developed a duff liver needing transplanting (and no, she's not a boozer...), I realized that any squishy bit of me worth salvaging for further use was not only a nice thing to do (and a matter of indifference to me as I WILL BE COMPLETELY DEAD), but was the only way I could extend my life in any meaningful sense.
I used to donate blood, too. Can't anymore.
At this stage, I suspect I'm past my due date re: the organs, but frankly, even being a medical cadaver is more useful than rotting in a box.
My wife wants to be given to one of those forensic "body farms" so she can rot in the cause of forensic technician training. She says this is an acceptable alternative to her choice, a native sky burial (feeeed the birds, feeeed the birds...)
Dead's dead. Might as well be of use. I harbour no hope nor illusion of bodily resurrection, which always sounded, as does Christ's, a tad zombie-ish to me.
Hell, yes, Maria. Something's badly backed up in your pipes today.
Well, we can disagree for once.. ;)
>It's the cheap all-you-can-eat-and-drink-buffets that won me over.
Frankly the food in Vegas is terrible, the buffets are as toxic as anything found in India and even if you pay the big bucks you get mediocre. What they do to a steak there in the Nation-Of-The-Steak, is frankly offensive.
...and...
The wine!!!!!!
My god! It's only made down the fucking road! How much do they charge for that shit!!!!!
As for my corpse, after I'm dead any who wants it can have it...
Actually, given that I'll be dead, do I have any right to say what the living do with it even?
Whilst I understand that it's wonderful to give the chance of life to another via organ donation, and that once we are dead, we are dead, very much dead, I still have an aversion to having strangers touch me, cut me open and so on, once I am gone.
It is very selfish of me but I have never claimed to be unselfish, albeit I do do many good things on the planet, in my own small way, showing empathy whilst alive, which can make for better days fellow earthlings, so I hope that the good I do now, makes up for being a totally selfish fcking kant re: the 'don't touch me' clause I want in my will.
I'm actually quite romantic about death, and believe it or not, the guy I fell in love with, who thinks just like you and your wife do, has even considered being side-by-side with me, and this is from somebody who would rather just decompose in a forest if he could. I dunno, I know dead is dead, but I would feel happier upon my death, if indeed I was aware that the time was nearing, knowing where I was going to end up, and knowing that no stranger would be touching my body, cutting open my body.
This is extremely selfish of me and I don't deserve any friends for feeling this way, but it is what it is.
p.s I hope your sister's better now.
Soody
I disagree with you!
The buffets that I went to were out of this world. Did you try The Mandarin Oriental?! OMFG! The ribs were to die for, plus so much more.
p.s Soody I'm on about the free all you can drink champagne! The wine, I buy from the store, NEVER from a restaurant.
If you're getting free all you can drink champagne then you're shit hot at craps...
...as opposed to the shit-hot craps I got from various buffets...
Maybe that's it, as a buffet tart I'm bound to catch something?
The place ain't my bag at all, it's a weird dead zone... All wrong...
No, actually. She's still on the list, but moving up because you have to be near-death to merit a transplant. There's such a shortage of donors (and I am ironically not a match) that there's a 50% mortality rate post-transplant because you don't *get* the transplant until everyone in front of you has died or got one.
The system is fair. The system is fucked. We're going to have to disagree on this one, I'm afraid.
Also, I would reconsider killing yourself. You're in the prime age group for morgue attendant "affection". So live a long life and leave a wizened, unappealing corpse, is my advice. Don't give a necrophiliac a boner, no pun intended.
It's amazing what you learn having a cop in the family. Amazingly revolting, actually.
Just like the original post, there are some very, very wrong comments in this thread.
For a start, r, I hate it when you remind me of my low times. I try to make up for feeling so low daily.
I am ashamed of myself but I am also proud of myself for seeing the light and for being all the stronger for it.
The other very wrong thing is the morticians. Another reason why I want as few people sniffing around my body, be I still youthful but with saggy tits and a beer belly, or old, with the former and more.
I am sorry your sister is still on the waiting list. It must suck big time to live with such a serious condition.
I'll donate, I won't need it anymore. What every they want they can have. Too bad my hair is short or they could have that too.
I've NEVER been to Vegas and never had the desire to go. I've also heard that the food is crap there.
Judith
It's the 'way' I 'do Vegas'. Totally in another world to others there, it's really trippy for me, to be in the heart of such a vile town, but to find beauty in it, especially after 6 hours of virtually free champagne. Also, I'm usually coming in from camping in wild places, so the contrast makes it even trippier, looking up at the fake sky in 'Venice' and so on.
Eehhh, I just have to stay in the wilderness. You know how I am, non shopper, no crowds, no noise, peace and quiet, sitting on the deck.... drinking my $6 wine. To each their own...
I'm just holding up the mirror of memory, Maria. You don't have to look at it.
And I certainly hope you never get to that point again.
I brought it up because you appear to have concerns over what happens when you're dead.
I have concerns over what happens when you're alive.
And I'm concerned with both sides, as both are important to me, regardless of how futile the journey to the other side might appear. I have had experiences that fuel my romanticism concerning death, like seeing my grandfather's death before it happened, the place, how he died, which makes me feel connected to death, and life, regardless of my fall into the abyss, and my thoughts and wishes come from what I 'feel', and I feel that I don't want strangers poking me around once I am dead.
Best go down with the ship, then!
(How do you feel about feeding the fish, or some other random, natural process that doesn't involve a rubber glove?
That's my wife's point. She literally wants to rot in the forest, feeding the trees, mushrooms and passing raccoons, because she knows exactly what "medicalized death" looks like.
Death in our civilization is quite an industrial affair, isn't it? Only the really old don't get an autopsy...because there's no mystery and no suspicion of foul play...so it's actually quite unusual for someone to just pop their clogs, get wrapped in a bedsheet, and get planked over the side.
And yet there's a great appeal to that simplicity for some. There's a "burial at sea" company in the States offering exactly that. You need neither boat nor sailing affiliations: http://www.newenglandburialsatsea.com/new-england-burials-at-sea-home-page/burials-at-sea/ )
Coming to this one a bit late cos I was ill a bit. But not so ill that I died. Coz otherwise I'd be dead and not writing this. Oh shit, what if... Nah!
Anyway, I sometimes think me and Miss M are twins or sumfink coz I agree with what she writes waaaay too much. Anyway (again) I don't want anyone playing with my bits when I go all horizontal either. Never have. I know when you're dead, you're dead, but, who has ever been totally dead and then come back back to tell us what it's like? Huh? Huh? And there's my logic - we just don't know what it's like to be dead. I think it's like going to sleep and not ever waking up. But who knows? Really?
The other thing that troubles me about organ donation is this. What if you're lying in a hospital bed, knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door, and the guy who answers says, "feck off, it's not your time yet. Get out of bed you lazy bastard". But there's a doc standing over you telling your nearest and dearest that you're brain dead, no chance, no hope, no way, best to flick the switch off. And by the way, could we have his heart/lungs/kidneys/todger? Just as you're thinking you'd better wake up. Oops, too late, the power just went off. Fecking nightmare innit!
Sorry to those who need bits and pieces but I haven't ever carried a donor card and I never will.
I hope for your sake you are never in the position of needing an organ to stay vertical.
I just heard an interview on the radio (which is a bit psychic, like Maria's) with Dr. Calvin Stiller (http://www.cdnmedhall.org/dr-calvin-r-stiller)who said that the transplant survival rate is now about 90%...or would be, if you didn't have to count all the people on the waiting list.
Fearing getting parted out while still aware is the modern equivalent of the fear of being buried alive, I think, which sold a lot of bells hooked up to coffins. The difference, of course, is that we can tell a great deal more about "vegetative states" than in the past, and anyway, a lot of donations come from people with shotgun blasts to the head and whatnot...stuff that in no current circumstances is one "walking off".
I can understand that this issue is very close to home with you, r, and so I understand your views.
Modern medicine has made us able to potentially save more people than ever before, and because of this chance to be operated on, for sure, there are going to be long waiting lists. I wonder how many people on such lists, and I understand your sister isn't one of those - are there because of lifestyle choices. I will do more research on this.
I agree with you re: the technology now available to test for vegetative state is pretty good, and if you are so gone anyway, well, there's not much chance of a recovery, so just move on. I have no fear re: could be on the cusp of 'leaving' then suddenly I'm fine and oh no.
I like the idea of the bells. Made me laugh.
Certainly opened a can of wormholds there. One question that occur to Minos about organ donation;
What age is considered too old to be a recipient?
And why?
Oh well, thats two.
Answers on a postmortem to;
Minos of the Meowans
Castella Minos
Answers on a postmortem...bwhahaha.
I find it a little strange that this should be one of the most heavily commented posts ever here.
I guess it's because we all have a future in being dead!
I think it reflects the surprise that Maria's so anti... She's normally so comfortable with death.
It hints at a squeamishness about the practicalities of it.
Not squeamishness, far from it. It's deeper than that. It's to do with the soul. I am not comfortable with death, I had the worst times of my life when I was courting it due to heartbreak. There was nothing comfortable about crawling out of that abyss, but crawl I did, and stayed this side of life for a while longer, because it's nice here, and we are lucky to be on this planet.
On that we can agree. The alternative to life is either nothing or something; my experiences favour "nothing", and so I like life very much indeed, sensing it's a one-way, one-time ride.
I find that idea liberating, not dreadful.
Don't give a necrophiliac a boner
:0
Bwahahahahahahhahahaa Too funny!!
Vegas?.........Never been, don't care too.
Postmortem....ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Although the thought of just decomposing somewhere naturally is interesting.....never thought of that. Hmmmmmm
Mata ne
Liz
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